The Last Love Song
by American Zombie
Summary: The apocalypse is boring. [#MaizaiMonday, Apocalypse!AU, Mai/Maizai-centric, Zutara/Tyzula/Taang/Yukka/others]


**AN:** This is an idea of mine I've had for a little while now. Writing about the diverse Avatar characters building a colony after the end of the world really fascinates me. It's Mai-centric and written for #MaizaiMonday but has _numerous_ other ships. The only ones I know are endgame are Maizai, Zutara Tyzula, Taang and Yukka, but they all will be paired with other people at points in time. Planned ships other than listed are: Jetara, Harulee, Maikka, Hakoda/Kya, Tophzula, Zuki, Sukka and Suki/Haru, and whatever else fits the fic. Mainly Maizai, though. The chapters will be short (around 1k words) since #MaizaiMonday is a weekly thing and I'm always pretty busy with school and sports. Anyway, I'll shut up now and I hope you enjoy the first chapter.

* * *

 **THE LAST LOVE SONG**

 _This is our little love song  
This is our corner of the world  
Just the last little love song  
That will ever be heard  
"_ _Apocalyptic Love Song" — Hypnogaja_

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 **Chapter One: Huntress**

* * *

It's impossible to decide what I despise most about the world I live in. There is no fathoming the depths of my hatred for raided REIs and bombed buildings. I really thought World War III would be much more exciting, but, oh well, I guess the apocalypse is boring. Still, something in me wants to survive. I can't get killed or give up that easily. It's not who I am.

This is no life. A tent, a heavy pack that's an ugly shade of tope, filled with a first aid kit, several kinds of water bottles, rope, a tent, a bag of skittles, my bricked phone, a sleeping bag, two lighters, as much dehydrated or canned food as I cared to carry. In my hands, I have a hunting bow in my hands, a well-concealed pistol on my right hip, and five knives secured under my sleeves.

I had been places in the military. A lot of places. It takes that much to be promoted to corporal by age twenty-one, even if the draft seemed to suck up kids right out of high school.

And due to those skills, I know I'm surrounded before a shot fires, a blade flies or a man makes a footstep. There are four raiders in a strategic attack on me, and I say, "I know you're here. Come fight me."

Four pounce at once. I throw a knife at the leg of the young man to my left, disabling him, and fire an arrow at the guy to my right, then fire a second arrow at a raven-haired girl around my age. She flips backwards and avoids it. I fire two more and she narrowly evades them all. While she has me distracted, a muscular man grabs me by the arm and spins me around to face him.

I silently draw the pistol on my hip as I look him dead in the hardened golden eyes.

He reaches towards my neck and I prepare to stab him before he grabs the metal chain around my neck. After glancing at the dog tags, he tightens his grip but takes a slight step back.

"I should've pegged you for it," he says. "What's your name?"

"Mai," I coolly say, refusing to stand down or break eye contact.

"Ozai. I am—was—a general," he states. With a voice like his, I bet he scared his subordinates to death.

I see the weakness there. He stayed his hand for some reason, and so I pull out a ploy I have used to save my skin before. "I usually prefer solitude, but I think we could do some damage together."

"Oh, you do?" His lips twitch, amused. He isn't buying it. Ugh. This is frustrating.

I impatiently say, "If not, I will kill you and all of your little friends. It might even be funny."

He tightens his grip on my spine. It hurts, but my blank expression does not falter. "You think you're in any position to make demands?"

"Yes, yes, I am." I gently jab the barrel of the gun his stomach. He drops me.

His fellow raiders look tense, but he laughs. I stand still and analyze my escape options.

"Offer one hand and arm the other. I like it," he says, still maintaining that air of arrogance that makes me want to gag. "Are you alone?"

"I'm not stupid. I wouldn't tell you that."

"So you are. I have a group of twenty survivors including myself camped out nearby. You were just trying to break my concentration when you offered an alliance, but I think you could be very useful," he says, stepping back.

I look around at my assailants for the first time. The guy in his twenties or so has a hideous scar but a hot body and otherwise attractive face. I don't recognize him or care much. The other guy is tattooed and smells of cigarette smoke. I peg him for an escaped convict. The girl who put up such a fight is staring at me with a disdain that even gives _me_ goosebumps.

Then I recognize her.

"You're Azula Lyons." A-List Starlet. Countless awards. Cold, kind of scary bitch who exclusively plays villains and femme fatales. Once or twice she's been a scream queen, but I'm almost surprised to see that in person she might as well be one of her characters.

"I don't see why that matters," she says.

"It doesn't," I reply in all honesty. I turn to Ozai. "I'll come with you, but I'm not surrendering my weapons and I reserve my right to leave at any time I choose. I'm not a prisoner."

"Of course you aren't," he says, and I don't know what to make of it.

…

I don't find this settlement boring. It actually piques my interest as I look around. They have tents, not buildings, but their shelters are well-constructed and they seem set up like good old fashioned Black Hills survivalists.

When I look around, I see a fairly organized structure. There are a lot of adolescents, but none of them too young. A woman holds a baby who cannot be more than one. A little girl is the only other child I see, and she is latched onto the hip of a young woman who looks like a supermodel and is wearing sparkly pink clothes and make-up after the world has ended.

There are a couple middle-aged men and one woman in that age-range too. An ancient man and ancient woman are also among this tribe.

They're set up well. They have muscle and youth on their side.

I'm an outsider, but I don't care.

"My daughter and her friends are going on a hunting trip in the morning. You could join them," suggests Ozai.

I have no idea why he's helping me. I guess I do offer something, but I sure as Hell never did in the past. I was not exactly a model student or the kind of kid a parent would be proud of.

"Do I have to meet everyone?" I ask.

He smirks at me. It's not mischievous; it's twisted.

"You will," he says.

"Do you have anyone with a higher rank who might gut me?" I asked. My eyes fell on a tan guy in blue talking to a girl who looked kind of like she could be a daughter or niece.

"We might not have an official leader, but I make every decision and everything here is run by me," he says, which sounds like being a leader to me. I don't really care why he doesn't label himself as that, so I don't ask. "The Four Nations Tribe has no official ruler and only one rule; don't fuck with me."

I don't reply. I don't have a reply.

I just look at all of these people and begin to miss being the lone huntress I was an hour ago.


End file.
